Let's Play A Game
by starfilledhaneul
Summary: Arthur heard that a certain Frenchman was a player, so now he wants to play a game.


A/N: they're normal people here, not countries

_Let's Play a Game_

I saw him from the peripheral view of my eyes: he was blonde, had a pointed nose, and extremely thick eyebrows above his emerald green eyes. He looked childish enough to be easily fooled…. I approached him, and he looked at me, palpable confusion in his eyes. I smirked as I thought; he was going to be my next victim.

* * *

><p>It was late at night as I exited the bar, my head hurt from the abundant amount of alcohol I had just drunk. My white polo had been crinkled up and pulled on viciously by the women I had spent my night with. I walked home, only the pale moonlight and the shining stars lit my pathway, I looked up at them and sighed while inserting my hand in my pockets and started walking. Five minutes had passed and I was already pressing the '7' button in the elevator in the apartment I lived in. I was about to press the button that would close the door, but a pale hand suddenly slid in between the cold, silver elevator doors.<br>"Excuse me," the soothing voice said, I immediately opened the doors and let him go in. He slid his petit body in between the doors and looked down. He muttered a quick 'thank you' without looking at my face and I only nodded in response. A few silent moments had passed when, finally, the elevator stopped at floor seven. I was about to go out when I saw him about to go out, too. I told him to exit first, and he did so, without saying a single word. We went our separate ways and I walked to room number 712, inserted the key in the door knob and entered the room. I turned on the lights of the rather dark room and walked to the bedroom and lay on my bed beside a woman whose name I couldn't even remember.  
>"Francis, you're finally here," she moaned as I slid my hands around her waist.<br>"Yeah," I replied as I nibbled on her ear, to which she moaned at. I turned her around and kissed her nose, slowly going down to her lips. And all that happened that night was a huge blur.

* * *

><p>I kissed the two girls I had spent the night with good-bye when my friend passed by us in the hallway of our apartment. I let go of the two girls, and went over to her. I smiled weakly at her and she smiled back at me.<br>"You get busier and busier each night…." She said. I laughed at her sarcastic remark and patted her on her head.  
>"Don't pretend like I don't know what you mean by that." I gave her another smile as she left. I locked the doors to my room and went out to go to the bar once again where I expected girls to go crazy over me, for the umpteenth time since I first stepped foot in the bar. When I got there, as expected, I could see girls waiting for me to finally come inside. I smiled at them and their cheeks got tomato red as I did so. I blew each girl a kiss and winked at them, this was my trademark. I smirked and walked over to the other side of the room to get myself a drink. "What is he?" I heard a man with a British accent ask. I looked at him, he was blonde. Just like the man I had met on the elevator nearly a week ago. He looked at me and walked over to where I stood; he bowed his head in respect and sat on the seat beside mine.<br>"You make all the girls here crazy." He told me, a slight accusation heard in his tone of voice.  
>"Quite, it's not that hard when you're the neighborhood womanizer." I replied, smirking. He looked at me questioningly and laughed.<br>"So you're somewhat a prostitute?" He asked, a tone of innocence still in his voice.  
>"No, nothing like that. It would be more acceptable if it had been the word 'slut', but either way, I'm not either of those words," I replied, seeing a confused look on his somewhat angelic face.<br>"So what are you?" He asked innocently, his head tilting sideways and his eyes shining under the dim light.  
>"Just a man looking for love, I guess." I smiled at him and he contemplated what I had said for a while.<br>"Ah, I see. You're failing, then?" He smirked at the defeated face I gave after he finished his sentence. "I'm Arthur, by the way, Arthur Kirkland."  
>"I'm Francis Bonnefoy. Nice to meet you, <em>monsieur<em> Arthur."  
>"I know you," he said, looking down at the floor.<br>"Well, of course. We have been talking for the past ten minutes." I replied, a hanging smile on my face.  
>"No, I know you. We met on the lift; you're the one who lives in room 712, aren't you? The one who plays the guitar when nobody's there?" I shuffled uncomfortably in my seat as he asked these questions. How could he have even known these things about me?<br>"Y-yes, I am." I nervously smiled. He gave me an achieved smile and laughed at my dumbfounded face. Now I remembered, he was, indeed, that man on the elevator with me. Arthur Kirkland…. "Well, I'm- I'm leaving." I smiled apologetically to him and waved him good-bye. I contemplated with myself to look back, so that my head was halfway looking back. And then then did I truly see him. Then did I truly see his face: pointed nose, extremely thick eyebrows and emerald green eyes. I had to remember his face.

* * *

><p>It was midnight in the bar, people were clubbing and dancing while I just sat on the chair where I had sat on 2 weeks ago when I first fully talked to the man I had first met on the elevator in my apartment… Arthur Kirland. I sighed and realized the chances of him coming back to this very same bar were low. <em>Extremely low<em>.  
>So I walked out of the bar and into a crowded street that lead to the second most frequented place of mine: the neighbourhood café. As I walked in, I saw someone who caught my attention: Arthur. I thought I was just imagining things as I had drank quite a few drinks previously that night to the extent that I could be passed off as drunk. But no, I wasn't imagining. My drunken instincts led me to doing what I had done. I saw him from the peripheral view of my eyes: he was blonde, had a pointed nose, and extremely thick eyebrows above his emerald green eyes. He looked childish enough to be easily fooled…. I approached him, and he looked at me, palpable confusion in his eyes. I smirked as I thought; <em>he was going to be my next victim<em>.


End file.
